


Small gifts

by Inon



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, Angsty John, Fluff, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-02 18:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10224170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inon/pseuds/Inon
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and John is tired of all the gay jokes. He reflects on his past experiences of sexuality and although not much is said, much more is understood between him and Sherlock.





	

"No, he didn't get me anything for Valentine's Day because we aren't together and I'm not fucking gay." John was tired of the teasing, especially after the long day he'd had. He grabbed his bag and jacket, not bothering with his standard, courteous 'goodbyes' as he left the surgery. 

John held onto his frustration as he rode the tube, his knuckles tight and the his vision unfocused. Why wouldn't they let this bloody joke go? Every single day there were comments, at work, at Scotland Yard, from his mates and Mrs.Hudson. 

Couldn't two men live and work together without drawing that sort of attention? 

He'd had a similar problem in high school. Mark and himself had been inseparable for nearly three years, best friends, in the same class and lived a bike ride away from each other. John didn't know how the rumours had started but he had been desperate for them to end. Mark didn't seem to care as much, but that was because he didn't have a homophobe as a father. Initially, John had uncomfortably laughed it off, replying sarcastically. But then people started to whisper when the pair were together. Somebody drew a cock on John's backpack when he'd left it in the changing room, and Mark had managed to get himself beaten up by a couple of sixth formers. That's when John knew things had turned serious. As a frightened teenager, he decided to cut all contact with Mark. He deleted his phone number, changed seats in all of his classes and never went to his house again. A way to make the jokes stop seemed to be to redirect them away from himself. John was relieved when he was no longer the focus of all that negative attention. 

A year later, John was the captain of the Rugby team and Mark came out as gay. John felt betrayed and turned a blind eye when one of his friends decided to leave the boy with a face wound that required 6 stitches. John took his girlfriend, Heather to prom. 

It took a while for his guilt to surface, and that was long after high school. His sister had come out of the closet and John had witnessed the wrath of his father. As far as Mr. Watson was concerned, Harry was no longer a part of the family, but John could not bring himself to love his sister any less because of her sexuality. 

John got off the tube at his station and began the short walk to 221b. He wasn't as angry anymore. 

In university, John had another best friend called Oliver. Oliver was a very bright engineering student. John was only slightly surprised when he found Oliver and his boyfriend Kane on their shared sofa one Friday night. By this point, John had decided that it really didn't matter if his best friend was gay, as long as nobody thought that he was. Because he wasn't. 

John got his first serious girlfriend during his second year of studying medicine. Her name was Lara and she had a pierced nose and a brilliant smile and John felt like he was in love. The relationship lasted a year and John was left broken hearted. The aftermath was horrible, and Oliver tried his best to pick up the pieces. One particularly difficult night, John had kissed Oliver and Oliver had been almost too polite to stop him. Nothing much happened afterwards, but John accepted that maybe he was not entirely straight after all...But he certainly wasn't gay. 

In the years that followed, John dated a dozen girls and experimented with a handful of men, always feeling slightly ashamed. John began to feel paranoid when it seemed that all gay men could tell that he was curious. What was it about him that gave it away? 

When he joined the army, John made sure to talk about women whenever he got the chance and was very forward with the ladies that caught his attention. The behaviours earned him the title 'Three Continents Watson'. Nobody teased him about being gay, because it was quite obvious that he wasn't. John was happy until a certain major caught his eye. James Sholto. Damn, he was smitten... John had been confused from the beginning whether or not his admiration for the older man was platonic and respectful or something else altogether. They got on well and John looked up to him. When he was in his bunk at night, sometimes his thoughts and dreams drifted and sometimes he indulged them. 

Naturally, the first thing that John did when he got home was turn on the kettle and take his shoes off. Sherlock came out from the bathroom wearing a pair of rubber gloves and a surgical mask.

"You're home early." Sherlock remarked with an accusative tone, peeling off the gloves and lowering his mask. 

"Not really." John poured two cups of tea and carried his own into the living room. It felt so good to relax into his chair. 

"You usually catch the 5.07 tube and arrive home between 5.35 and 5.37. You came through the front door at 5.33 so you must have taken the 5.04 tube."

"Maybe I ran." John murmured, taking a much appreciated slurp of tea.

Sherlock scoffed. "Unlikely. You haven't been physically active in weeks. If you'd have run home there would be more evidence of perspiration." The younger man quirked a smile and took the mug of tea John had made for him.  
"What's wrong?" He sat down opposite the doctor. "Why were you in such a hurry to leave work?" 

"Honestly Sherlock, it's all fine. I just wanted to come home that's all." John offered him a small smile. "What have you been up to today? Any luck getting that cold case file from Greg?" 

Sherlock eyed him dubiously. "I cleaned the bathroom. Because you were angry about it."

"I've been asking you to clean the bathroom since the staining incident 2 months ago." John was pleasantly surprised regardless. "But that's great, really. Thank you." 

"Mm." Sherlock sipped. "Are you pleased?"

John laughed. "Yes. Yes I'm pleased. I'm shocked really." 

"Good. I wanted to get you something that you wanted." 

"I'm not following."

"It's the 14th John, don't be dense." 

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you cleaned the bathroom because it's Valentine's Day?" John's eyes widened. He propped up his chin with his elbow on the arm rest. "Huh...So you did get me something..." He muttered softly. 

If John didn't know any better, he would say that Sherlock certainly looked very vulnerable right now. His curls were messier than usual, cheeks red with either the breathlessness of cleaning, or embarrassment.  
"It's hardly a big deal." Sherlock huffed. "Just a few hours work."

John burst into a wide, stupid smile. "I really appreciate it Sherlock. Honestly. I've actually got something for you...I wasn't sure if you even knew it was Valentine's Day today. It doesn't seem like something you would celebrate. I wanted to give it to you this morning, but...You know. It might have been a bit weird. I don't know." John got out of his chair with a small grunt and went to his bedroom to retrieve the small, unwrapped brown box. 

"Why would it have been weird? You care about me." 

John was dumbstruck. Yes, of course he cared about Sherlock. But why had his mind immediately jumped to the romantic idea of caring? In those following seconds, John had felt transparent and exposed. 

Sherlock was smirking at him in that typical arrogant way. 

"Thank you, John." He took the box and was very grateful for the glass slides, slips and petri dishes that it contained.  
Sherlock put the box down and hugged John tightly, his forearm around the shorter man's neck, and his other arm around his waist.  
The hug continued for longer than one might have expected a hug to last between friends and strangely, John relaxed into it.


End file.
